Oh, Artie Collab Story
by Ariaprincess
Summary: A bunch of assorted one-shots about Oliver and Arthur. Collab stories between A Broken Imagi-NATION and Ariaprincess. Not romance, probably never will be, but things change. Rated K because we are paranoid...
1. Chapter 1

"Oh, Arrrrtie, would you like to bake cupcakes with me?"

"No."

"Come on~ You'd look so cute in my extra apron~!"

"Nope."

"But, Arrrrtie!"

"For the last time; N. O. No, Oliver!"

"Aw... in that case, would you like to play dress-up with me? I brought Kiku's maid dreeeessss~"

"...*sigh* You won't give up unless I do something with you; will you?"

"Yep~ Now come on, I have a ribbon that'll look just adoooooorable in your hair!"

"Fine..."

Oliver tugged Arthur to his bedroom, eyes sparkling. "What should we dress you in first?..."

Arthur rolled his eyes, giving a defeated sigh, "The one that's the less...frilly."

Oliver pulled out a white and pink frilly apron, all ruffles and bows.

"Tada! Now go get changed~"

Arthur frowned, harshly grabbing the article of clothing and ripping it from Oliver's grasp. As much as he would love to complain, he knew that the strawberry-haired man would probably die his hair a bright neon pink - again - and send a picture to Francis. Slipping into the sickeningly girly piece of clothing, the Brit crinkled his nose in distaste; and to think, the great pirate captain, Arthur 'England' Kirkland...was forced to wear a frilly apron by a psycho with a pink obsession...

Oliver clapped his hands together in amusement. "You look simply adorable!" He picked up a pink ribbon from the vanity behind him. "Now hold still..."

Rose bushes of embarrassment bloomed on Arthur's cheeks as the bow was clipped into his hair. "This is demeaning..." he muttered, bitterly.

Oliver's face lit up. "You are the cuuuuuutest thing, Artie! I have to take a picture." Oliver pulls out his phone before Arthur can blink.

"Say 'cheese'!"

Arthur frowned, "No, Oliver!"

Too late.

 _FLASH._

Ollie squealed. "You look just diviiiiiine! Your red cheeks and the bow go verrrrrry nice together! I am sending this to Allen, and... What is your America's name? Alfred?"

Arthur's cheeks had just created a new shade of red, clenching a fist, he exclaimed, "You won't send that picture to those bloody idiots!"

Oliver looked up from his phone, a bewildered expression on his face.

"Oops."

The green-eyed Brit growled, lowly; "You're dead." he stated, simply.

Oliver looked sheepish, his cheeks turning a slight crimson. "I don't suppose you'd want to pick something for me to wear, would you?"

A wicked, plotting smirk spread across Arthur's face, his emerald eyes twinkling with mischief, "Oh, that's even better~" he snickered, plot already formulating in his mind.

Oliver whimpered. "As long as it's not...too embarrassing? I do have a reputation to uphold..." He fiddled with his bowtie.

"Of course, of course," Arthur replied, though it wasn't very truthful sounding. He went to the closet, shuffling through the various articles of clothing until he finally pulled out the bane of the pink-lover's nightmares; a gray turtleneck.

Oliver went pale. "B-but...why?" He physically shivered at the sight of the drab piece of clothing.

Swinging the turtleneck back and forth in a slow fashion, Arthur chuckled; "I'm out of my comfort zone, so you have to be too." he practically sang, enjoying this far too much.

Oliver wrapped his arms around his body.

"P-please, anything but that..."

Arthur shoved the shirt into Oliver's hands, "It's either this or another costume much more embarrassing." he threatened, "And I'll get to send that one."

Oliver started mumbling to himself before asking; "What's the other costume?" He was almost afraid to hear.

"A nice little dog suit, then I drop you off at Francois' place. You'd be his little pet."

Oliver actually considered the possibility, then decided against it.

"F-fine. Do I have to wear jeans with it, too?"

Arthur nodded, "They're in the closet still."

Oliver walked to the closet as grimly as if he was walking to his deathbed.

"I...I..."

"Chop, chop; the quicker you do it is the quicker it's over with." Arthur smirked.

"Oh, you do not want to talk to me about chopping right now." Oliver muttered as he pulled off his sweater vest and pulled on the turtleneck.

"Especially since you haven't brushed your hair today." He added.

"Shut up." Arthur snapped, smoothing down his hair the tiniest bit.

Oliver grinned and mimed snipping motions with his fingers. "You're still sore about that time with Francis, aren't you, Artie?" He pulled on the turtleneck, and muttered something unintelligible.

"Of course I am!" Arthur blushed, face comparable to the tomatoes Antonio and Lovino grew in their garden, "The bloody frog..."

"Aw, poor poppet." Oliver remarked, slowly adjusting to the length of the turtleneck. "It would be a shame if somebody attacked your hair tonight, wouldn't it?" He scratched his neck. "This thing itches." He added.

Arthur rolled his eyes with a huff, tugging at the bow in his hair, "Well, it'd be such a loss if a certain someone lost their favorite frostings, wouldn't it?" he asked, grumbling something about the irritating bow under his breath afterwards.

Oliver narrowed his eyes and pulled on the jeans. "You play dirty, don't you?" Then he smiled. "The thing is, frostings can be replaced in an instant."

"Hm...fair point," Arthur said, "But...your own hair can't." he added with a nonchalant shrug.

Oliver smiled, the contrast between his pink hair, blue eyes, and grey clothing bright. "You are a clever one, Artie dear." He fingered the itchy wool clothing with disgust. "I wish that that mop of hair of yours and those boring plaid suits wouldn't hide it."

Arthur snorted, "You have the same 'mop of hair' Oliver." he huffed, irritated.

"The difference is, I actually bother to take care of mine." Oliver smirked. "Take a picture if you wish, it will last longer."

"I do take care of it, Oliver!" Arthur scoffed; as much as he would like to seem the tiniest bit intimidating, the apron prevented that dream from becoming even close to a reality.

Oliver snickered. "Yes, of course, that rat's nest look is absolutely on purpose." He smooths his own hair down and looks at his outfit. "This actually doesn't look half that bad. Needs a bit of color, though. A nice pink-"

Arthur cut him off, "Then it wouldn't be gray..." although, he had to admit to himself...the apron was starting to grow on him the tiniest bit...it would be better without the bow in his hair, or missing some of the frills on it...

"-I was going to say bow tie." Oliver grumbled. "Yes, a pink bow tie would set the whole thing off quite nicely." He looked Oliver up and down. "You can take it off now. I've had my fun. I wish mine wasn't so itchy, or I'd keep mine on too."

Arthur sighed, sounding relieved, as he took off the apron. Unclipping the bow from his hair, he stared at it; it was pink...Arthur walked over to Oliver.

"A-artie? You aren't going to slap me, are you?" Oliver whimpered. "It-It's the only bow I have, I swear! Please don't be mad..."

Another sigh passed the Brit's lips, staring into the other's blue eyes with his own green; something was clipped onto Oliver's turtleneck, and Arthur slipped out of the room, hands no longer holding what they once did.

Oliver fingered the clip-on bow tie on his neck. "O-oh..."


	2. Chapter 2

"Um, Artie? I might have...um...accidentally...oh, how do I put this?"

Arthur looked up from his copy of 'Sherlock Holmes' and rose a thick eyebrow, "What, Oliver?" he questioned, slipping a bookmark in between the pages to save his place.

Oliver fidgeted with his fingertips. "Uh... you wouldn't know how to get blood out of a pink scarf, would you?"

"A...pink scarf?" the green-eyed Brit asked, "Whose blood do you need to get out of a pink scarf?"

Oliver looked at his feet. "If I said Flavio's, would you be mad?"

"...What happened?" Arthur stated, ignoring the question completely.

Oliver starting scraping one foot along the floor. "If I said Flavio was unconscious in the basement, would you be mad?"

Arthur sighed, "Why is he unconscious in the basement? If you give me a good and truthful reason, I won't be mad; promise."

Oliver pouted like a small child. "Don't wanna tell you. You'll get mad no matter what I say."

"Oliver. Tell me. Now." Arthur commanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

Oliver shuffled his feet, then darted out of the room.

"Oliver!" Arthur huffed, watching as the other British man ran; rolling his eyes, he chased after the other man.

Oliver huddled under his bed, knees tucked under his chin. He was trembling.

Arthur knew Oliver well - probably better than the strawberry-blonde knew himself; he knew Oliver's regular 'hiding spots' when he thought Arthur would be mad at him, for whatever reason. The most prominent being his bedroom. Arthur knocked on the door, "Oliver? I know you're in there, come out; we'll talk."

Oliver shook his head. "Nuh-uh. I'm staying in here. You'll get all dark-magicky on me and I'll end up with green hair again."

A sigh escaped the green-eyed Brit, "First off, that was because you turned my hair pink! Second, I won't. Know come out before I actually start considering that as an opportunity."

Oliver crawled out from under the bed and opened the door, then rushed back under the bed.

Seeing the other man under the bed, Arthur rolled his eyes; "You're just like those darn cats..."

Oliver mewed softly. "Miao. Now go away."

"Oliver; I want to talk." Arthur's tone was no-nonsense, his patience for the other British man growing thin and frazzled quickly.

Oliver sighed, and came out from under the bed. "What do you want to talk about?"

Arthur gave a tiny smile; "I just want to know why Flavio is in the basement."

Oliver sighed. "Flavi and I had a little bit of a...disagreement. Let's just say that catering knives are sharper than they look." Oliver pulled up his sleeve to see cuts all up his forearm.

With a nod, Arthur sighed, "Do you want to patch those up?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Oliver nodded, clearly embarrassed.

"Alright; let's go get the bandages..." Arthur muttered, walking out of the room.

Oliver followed Arthur like a puppy, trying not to let the scratches show.

Soon enough, Arthur was gently bandaging Oliver's arm with practiced hands. The duo had gone through this process more times than what was countable.

Oliver started sniffling. The cuts hurt more then he was letting on.

Noticing the other's sniffles, Arthur looked at the watering blue eyes of Oliver. He sighed, finishing patching the other up as quickly as he could while still being gentle. Wiping away the strawberry blonde's tears, Arthur muttered, "How about we go out and get you something to eat, hm? I don't remember seeing you eat today."

Oliver nodded. "Y-yeah. Thank you."

"No problem; let's go."

Oliver grabbed Arthur's arm and followed him out the door, sniffling.

"What do you want to go get, Oliver?" Arthur asked, leading Oliver out to the car and opening the passenger door for the strawberry blonde.

Oliver slid into the seat and looked at his bandaged arms. "Anything but Italian."

Despite himself, Arthur chuckled, "Alright. No Italian."

Oliver smiled. "You pick. I tend to make a lot of my meals from scratch, so I don't know a lot about eating out."

"How about Chinese? Yao's restaurant isn't that far away." Arthur responded, putting his keys into the ignition.

"Sounds good." Said Oliver, giggling.

And off they drove to Yao's restaurant; leaving a fashionista Italian locked in the basement for just short of three hours.


	3. Chapter 3, Part 1

Arthur snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping his foot against the pavement. The Brit glanced at his watch for the tenth time; the students from Kurai Taneoka Academy were supposed to be here a full half hour ago! With a sigh, the Student Council president turned on his heel to go back into World W Academy and just wait inside, but he heard a bus coming from down the road and turned back.

The bus pulled up at the kerb, choking out black smog. The door slid open, revealing a well dressed man wearing a pink sweater vest and slacks. He was talking on a mobile phone, and seemed quite distracting. Finally, snapping the phone closed, he flashed a smile at the angry gentleman.

"Sorry we're late! The bus broke down and we had to do some repairs. As you can see, it still isn't running right."

Arthur nodded, still irritated, "Well, at least you're here now," he nodded toward the imposing academy behind him, "Welcome to World W Academy; my name is Arthur Kirkland, I'm the Student Council president and will be showing you all around."

The man nodded. "I'm Oliver." Leaning closer, he whispered. "I've only got a few others with me today. Our academy is for...well, you'll see soon enough." He whistled, and around five other teens burst through the doors, yelling and pushing.

The Brit sweat-dropped at the behavior of the other boys. He fiddled with the collar of his uniform, giving another nod and turning around on his heel, "We could start the tour now. Our Headmasters would like to meet with you later on."

Oliver nodded. "Sounds good. By the way, this is Luciano, Lutz, Flavio, Matt, and Allen." He waved wildly at the other boys, who had formed a sloppy line and were jabbing each other in the ribs.

Arthur nodded towards the boys, "Charmed..." he drawled, walking towards the academy, he really wanted to get this nightmare over and done with. The Brit started to blabber the standard tour guide speech of the academy's history; though, he was sure that the boys weren't listening at all.

Oliver tried to hush the idiots following behind him, but they just yelled at him.

"Who elected you student body president? You're boring!" A brunette boy yelled before Oliver smacked him. "Hush, Luciano. This man is taking time out of his schedule to help us."

Luciano rolled his eyes with a huff, "I'm only saying what's true!"

The blonde boy, probably Luciano's brother, hushed the brunette, "Shush, Luci; Oliver's right. Being so angry all the time isn't helping you."

"Shut up, Flavio! What do you know?!"

Arthur rolled his emerald eyes as a fight broke out between the two Italians, it reminded him slightly of another pair of twins...except, louder.

Oliver pulled the two apart.

"Quiet, both of you! You're acting like spoiled brats!"

He batted his eyelashes, earning a disgusted look from 'Lutz.'

"Besides, if you fight, you won't get to help me feed my special cupcakes to the tour guide later..." he whispered.

The Italian twins exchanged a look, the kind of look all twins use while mentally communicating with each other. From the grins that spread on both boys' faces, it was clear that had finally found something to agree on.

Luciano nodded, "Okay..."

"We'll behave." Flavio finished.

A chill running down his spine, Arthur knew that whatever Oliver had offered the brothers wasn't going to end prettily for him.

Oliver smiled and rubbed his hands together. "Excellent." He giggled. As they walked, he attempted to strike up a conversation with the tour guide. "How long have you been at the school? What are your hobbies? Do you have friends here?"

After a minute of no response, Arthur sighed; "I've been here since first grade - this academy goes all the way down to elementary. I like to cook, though the culinary club say my cooking tastes like petrified couch stuffing; I also sew and read in my spare time. I wouldn't really call them 'friends' more like rivals and acquaintances, though I suppose Lukas and Vladimir are the closest I have to friends."

"Oh, I like to cook too! I love baking cupcakes the most!" Oliver squealed. "My best friends are Allen and Matt, and in my free time I like to go murder innocent civilians!" He chirped.

Arthur stopped walking, feeling the blood drain from his face at the words that had just passed Oliver's lips, as casually as if he were just ordering a cup of tea. All of the rumors about the students from Kurai Taneoka, which he had tried to ignore, resurfaced; that everyone who attended was twisted in the head...

The green-eyed blonde felt sick...he was escorting a bunch of maniacs around the campus!

"It's really fun! Everybody here enjoys it! Sometimes Luciano and I go out and have a little fun with some knives and a bottle of arsenic." Oliver launched into a detailed explanation of techniques, not noticing the sick look on Arthur's face.

Arthur tried to drown out the, er, 'lovely' details that Oliver explained; he felt faint. He really wanted this tour over now...

Oliver was just getting to the best part (slitting the victim's throat) when Luciano yelled "HEY! We're hungry! When's lunch?"

'Finally!' Arthur sighed, "Soon; in about ten minutes we'll be at the cafeteria."

Oliver smiled. "Lovely. I brought cupcakes for everyone; is that alright?"

Luciano frowned, "You didn't put that rat poison in like last time right? Flavio still has nightmares..."

"You would too if you were poisoned on your birthday!" Flavio cried.

"We share a birthday, idiota! At least I was the smart one and didn't eat them!" Luciano retorted, allowing the twins to - once again - fall into a war of words.

"Don't fret, my pets, I used the mustard and herbs this time." Oliver soothed. "Now don't fight.. He might hear you."

Luciano puffed out a cheek, "Not your pets..." he huffed.

Flavio stuck his tongue out, "Why the mustard?" he whined.

"Because," Oliver paused to let out a giggle, "We don't want him dying...yet."

"Fine..." Flavio muttered, looking dejected.

Oliver patted Flavio on the head. "There, there. Maybe while he's drugged, you can play dress-up!"

As if a light had been turned on, Flavio's eyes sparkled - much like a child on Christmas day. "Yay~!" he squealed, clapping his hands and giggling madly. Luciano rolled his eyes at the elder sibling's behavior.

"Get a grip, ya idiot." Luciano shoved him, but Flavio simply squealed. Oliver beamed. "Ah, it's nice to see somebody with a passion for the old arts. Even if he is a teenager."

The younger Italian simply rolled his eyes, wondering how he had gotten roped into going on this 'field trip' with these idiots...

"Anyway, are we there yet?" Oliver tugged on the other Brit's sleeve.

Arthur felt slightly uncomfortable with the strawberry-blonde killer grasping onto his sleeve. Chills ran down his spine as he nodded; "Yes, almost." he muttered, keeping his voice steady.

Oliver cocked his head. "A-are you okay?"

"I'm fine, don't worry about me; we're here." Arthur responded, stopping just outside the large doors of the cafeteria.

Oliver smiled, and turned around sharply. "Get into a line, please, or I will have to hurt you!"

Matt rolled his eyes, grabbing the hood of Allen's jacket and dragging him to the line - ignoring the protests that spilled from the younger brother's mouth. Flavio followed behind them - practically skipping - with Luciano and Lutz at the end, Luci once again wondering how he was related to the blonde Italian.

Oliver clapped his hands together. "So, what's for lunch?"

Arthur shrugged, "They have a usual lunch menu on the board, it always changes."

"Goody. We have to prepare our food back at our school, so we all brought lunch." Oliver pulled out a small tupperware container.

"That's good; it usually costs a pretty penny to buy from here." Arthur responded; really, lunches here were a bit expensive, nothing harming to a person's wallet, but still slightly over-priced.

"Don't worry, I brought some for you too! As a thank you present." Oliver smiled, popping open the lid of the container.

Arthur had to admit, the food smelt lovely, but he was uneasy about it; "No, I've had lunch before you all came; thank you though."

"Are you sure? At least have a cupcake, to please me." His smile grew even wider.

Reluctantly, Arthur picked up the sweet pastry, its top coated in swirling blue and pink frosting that made the green-eyed Brit want to throw up by the amount. Eyeing the treat, suspiciously, Arthur sighed; even though he couldn't trust these other students, he couldn't be rude either. Putting the cupcake to his mouth, Arthur closed his eyes and took a bite; the sweetness overwhelming his taste buds almost immediately.

Oliver winked almost imperceptibly to Flavio and Luciano, who nodded. Flavio rubbed his hands together; he couldn't wait to have another little - temporary - mannequin!

Oliver smiled. "Oh, Arthur, could you show me where the bathroom is?" He grabbed his arm and pulled him up before he could say anything.

Arthur was surprised by the sudden action, stumbling a bit on his own feet as he followed Oliver, "Alright..." he responded, weakly; his stomach hurt a bit...

Oliver smiled, and tugged his arm more, gesturing to Luciano and Flavio.

Both Italian looked at each other, then set their sights on Arthur, twin grins creeping along their faces. Arthur felt very uncomfortable now...

Oliver smiled. "Is it over here, Artie?"

Arthur nodded, feeling a bit light-headed; "Yes, over this way."

Oliver pushed him into the bathroom rather forcefully. "Sorry, poppet, but I'll have to ask you to step inside here."

Arthur frowned, "Why?" he muttered.

Oliver giggled like a madman. "Oh, no reason."

'This isn't good...' Arthur thought, searching for a way to escape the bathroom.

Oliver winked at Flavio and Luciano again. They both grabbed small rolls of duct tape out of their pockets.

"Now, poppet, I'm going to need you to hold still. It'll hurt more if you don't, you see."

Green eyes stared at the silver material in horror; this not end well...

Swallowing, Arthur waited for the adhesive tape to be put on him; there was no use in fighting, he supposed.

Flavio wound the duct tape around Arthur's legs and arms, trapping him.

"You know, this is one of the only good things your Alfred invented." Oliver commented.

"Shouldn't the herbs be going into effect now? I picked all the right ones." Flavio wondered.

Arthur frowned, thinking on Alfred; he supposed that he had made the adhesive tape that bound him...

Suddenly, his stomach lurched, as if being twisted, he felt the need to vomit. A soft whimper left his as he screwed his eyes shut.

Oliver smiled as he ripped the duct tape away and placed a bucket on the Brit's lap.

"Good luck~"

Arthur felt his lunch come back up his throat; thankful that the pink-and-blue psycho had enough decency to give him a bucket to vomit in - instead of the worse option of simply throwing up on himself - the green-eyed blonde started to throw-up into the bucket.

Luciano and Flavio recoiled as the Brit started to retch, but Oliver simply turned away and chuckled.

"Yep, Flavio, you definitely picked the right herbs."

Turning his silver eyes away from the disgusting scene, Flavio puckered his lips in a sassy fashion as he gazed at Oliver; "I know I did," he exclaimed, running the smooth silk texture of his pink scarf between his fingers, "Grandpa taught me all I know; and he was a master with them!"

Luciano rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, "That old man wouldn't know thyme from the Black Locust you used..."

Oliver tutted. "Don't go dishonoring your grandpa, he was a genius."

Carefully, he withdrew a small silver syringe from his pocket.

"Sweet dreams, Artie dear."

Arthur forced his stomach to settle; his gaze was fuzzy, but he could still see the gleaming silver texture of the needle. Oliver's words settled into his head, and the Brit knew of what was to come. He vomited into the bucket again, no longer able to keep his stomach in check.

Oliver whistled as he rolled up Arthur's shirtsleeve.

"Lucky you, this'll hold off the effects until you wake up. Until then, enjoy your brief moment of rest."

And on that happy note, he thrust the end of the syringe down with his thumb, injecting the clear liquid into his unfortunate victim.

The only thing Arthur saw before falling asleep was the Cheshire grin of the Kurai Taneoka Academy students. Vision blurring with sleep, Arthur closed his eyes, the only thought that flittered about his mind fading away and into the dark of sleep.

 _'They really are mad..._ '

 **Part 2 coming soon!**


	4. Chapter 3, Part 2

**Okay, the second part has arrived! Props to A Broken Imagi-NATION for putting up with me long enough to write this; she's such a good writer~!**

Oliver clapped his hands in glee as he saw Arthur slump over.

"Good! Flavio, you take his arms, Luciano, take his legs."

The rest, he hoped, would work out from there.

The two Italians did as told; Flavio giggling like a giddy child and Luciano simply smirking.

Oliver put on his anguished face and burst out of the bathroom, yelling, "Where's the headmaster? Oh, does anybody know where the school nurse is? Oh dear, oh dear!"

After a lot of convincing, Oliver was able to explain to the school nurse that Arthur had passed out from indigestion and he should immediately be taken to Oliver's house to rest.

"Yes ma'am, thank you!" Oliver chuckled as he strolled out of the academy with a line of unruly students in tow. "Class dismissed." And they all filed into the school bus and drove towards home territory.

Yes, it was all working out fine.

The bus rattled, choking out black smoke as it drove; every little pebble on the ground made the vehicle bounce like it was going over speed-bumps. Flavio hummed as he ran his hands through a still sleeping Arthur's hair; "Such silky locks! Oh, think of the possibilities Oliver!" he squealed, looking at the pink-and-blue Brit with shimmering eyes, "Those gorgeous bows I got from Grandpa Julius all those years ago; they'd be simply divine~!" he sang.

Luciano rolled his eyes, mindlessly fiddling with Arthur's shoe strings, untying them and retying them together into a knotted mess of black laces, "Share your 'fun' fratello; I need some target practice!" he snickered, imagining his own gift from Grandfather Julius that was waiting at his room; a nice target, large enough to tie a human to, just begging to be impaled with sharpened knives.

Oliver smiled at his two friends, rubbing a piece of Arthur's hair between his thumb and forefinger. "Hmm, yes, it is quite silky. Unfortunately, Luci darling, we aren't allowed to do him any real harm."

A possibility came to mind and his eyes glinted. Turning to Flavio, he murmured softly into his ear.

"I do have a spare pair of shears back home, just in case." Flavio's smile widened.

Luciano pouted, "Fine...can't I just play with him a bit?" he asked, "Flavio gets to..."

Oliver gave the matter a bit of thought before nodding. "I don't see why not. But nothing too serious, okay?"

Luciano smiled, "Alright." he said, giving a shrug.

Oliver wiped a trail of drool out of the corner of Arthur's mouth with his handkerchief before looking out the window.

"Oh good, we're home."

Eyes flashing, smile almost glowing, he chuckled, "Let's go play, shall we?"

Flavio nodded, clapping his hands together, "Yes, yes, yes!" he chirped; wriggling out of his seat, he grabbed Arthur's arms once again; "Ready, Luci?" he asked.

Luciano also nodded, standing as well; taking the unconscious blonde's legs into a firm grasp, "Si."

The other students huddled around the unconscious Brit, Oliver, and the two Italians as they walked the long distance to the special rooms designed for their fun.

"I'll get the tools from our room, you wait to greet him when he awakens." Oliver chirped as he left the room, shoes clacking on the cement floor.

Flavio nodded, clearly excited beyond what the others felt; he hadn't had a model in so long!

Oliver came back a few minutes later, carrying two objects. A small wooden box inlaid with gold, and a slender pair of silver scissors. He extended both to Flavio, who took them gratefully.

"Oh look, he's stirring."

"Goodie!" Flavio sang, clutching the two objects closer to himself. Arthur's green eyes fluttered open, and he hoped he was still dreaming when he saw Flavio, Oliver, and Luciano - along with the other boys - standing in front of him.

Oliver smirked.

"Well well, our little sleeping beauty has awakened. Luciano?"

Quick as a flash, Luci had wrapped some kind of rope around Arthur and pulled it right.

"Yes, Oliver."

"Good. Your pals won't notice you're missing until... Hm, day after tomorrow, around 5. In the meantime, we're gonna have so much fuuuuun~"

Arthur blinked in surprise; Flavio smiled, holding up the scissors. The metal gleamed wickedly, the Italian smirked, "Don't worry, hun," he cooed, "This will be fun~!"

Luciano and Oliver chuckled in harmony as Flavio held up the blades. _The look on Arthur's face was just too precious!_

Playfully, Flavio gently ran the cold metal up and down Arthur's face, humming cheerfully while he did so, "You're skin's so lovely; nice and soft, the perfect shade of pale tan - like porcelain!" he chirped, "Shame if Roland got to it..." he whispered at the end, more to himself than to Arthur.

Turning his head, the Italian looked at Oliver, "What do you think we should try first?"

Oliver shrugged his shoulders, his Cheshire grin never faltering.

"I'm trusting you here, poppet, you've never steered us wrong."

He thought to himself, giggling slightly.

"Of course, leave a little meat for Luciano, he seems... Quite anxious for a turn."

"Of course I'll leave some for my darling little brother!" Flavio replied; "I think I'll use that cute outfit I bought from Kasch..." he muttered.

"Great idea!" Oliver cooed, "And might I suggest you... take a little off the top... and add some sparkly bows! Purple always looks good with blondes." He added, giggling.

"Oh, but it'd be a shame to let such perfect hair go to waste!" Flavio gasped, "Though, purple would be dashing on him! Maybe royal purple!"

"Why do you think I bought you those scissors?" Oliver frowned, pouting slightly. "Yes, yes, royal purple, royal purple. Those green eyes, yes, it'll all look so-"

"Will you shut up and just get to the god damn torture already?" Luciano interjected, slightly pissed off.

"Tut, tut, Luci - torture is an art form; ever more so when it involves fashion! You can't rush it." Flavio chided his younger sibling; causing Luciano to pout slightly."Yeah, whatever." Luci huffed, taking out a knife to polish while he waited.

Arthur frowned; he hated being talked about like he was a doll of some kind, it was...demeaning...

Oliver turned to gather some kind of fabric, arranging and rearranging shelves to get what he needed.

Flavio grinned at Arthur, "Now, now; don't mar your pretty little face with that little frown!" he said, grinning crazily.

Oliver finally found what he was looking for: a large swatch of glittery purple fabric.

"Here you go, poppet. Go wild."

Flavio clapped his hands; taking the fabric. He took out a small vial from his pant's right pocket; it's yellowing label could only be read in Latin. From what Arthur could read, he could make out the first two words - 'Essence of...'

Essence of...what?

Taking off the cork and tipping a bit of the thick, goopy concoction onto the fabric; Flavio smirked, "Loki whipped this for me; it's an old spell that my grandfather found!" he sang. The ribbon didn't have the gunk on it anymore, it was just a normal, shimmering purple ribbon. "How about a nice bowtie?" Flavio wrapped the ribbon around Arthur's neck; not too tight to be painful, but still tight. Almost immediately, the Brit's skin burned and itched. It was a horrid feeling...he wanted it gone...The skin the fabric touched felt as if it were on fire; Arthur couldn't stand it - he needed to tear off the fabric, he needed to run, he needed to escape from these sick-minded students.

At once.

Wriggling his arms, Arthur attempted to escape the rope which bound him; he heard Flavio's giggles - only Flavio's giggles. High-pitched and maddening; the sound echoed and bounced around his skull in a horrible, horrible symphony of noise. Why...why would they do this? Or, why to him?

"Tut, tut; little Arthur," Flavio said, "I know it hurts, but it might be over sooner if you hold still." Flavio growled the last two words, eyes glinting with animalistic joy. He pulled out two white, rubber gloves from his jacket pocket; he grabbed Arthur's chin in a vice-like grip. He ran a finger on the ribbon.

"Though," he muttered, voice a whisper, "I don't think Kasch's outfit would suit you very well..." he trailed off, though his eyes regained their gleam almost immediately, "But!" he continued in a happy chirp, "I believe that I have just the suit!"

Looking at Oliver and Luciano, he sang, "Would you mind if I rush away for a tiny bit? I need to go to my room and get that lovely suit from my closet! Luci can do whatever he pleases with my little model, as long as his perfectly porcelain face isn't ruined in any way~!" his eyes sparkled, gleaming with mischievousness and cunning planning.

Luciano smiled with pleasure, his eyes gleaming with an insane joy and fury.

"With pleasure."

He slowly walked over to his unfortunate victim, pulling a small knife out of his pocket.

"Hmm, Flavio did say not to mar your pretty little face..."

Crouching down, he stroked the flat of the blade against Arthur's cheek.

"But... he didn't say anything about the rest of you."

The blade moved to Arthur's neck, skin meeting cold metal. The sharp end of the blade prickled against the itchy fabric, but didn't slice it open, as Arthur had hoped. The blade slipped, and a small drop of blood oozed from the open wound it had inflicted. Luciano grinned.

"Oops. I'm sorry. I must get something to clean it with."

Luciano turned to the shelves, knocking over various jars and vials. Oliver struggled to catch them as they fell, filling his arms with the potions. Luciano finally found what he was looking for: a glass bottle filled with pale yellow liquid.

"Now, hold still, Artie. This may sting a little, but that's normal."

And he dabbed the liquid onto the cut. Immediately, Arthur was engulfed in a painful sting, that smoked and burned the small cut in more pain then it should have. It throbbed.

"Oh dear, did I get the lemon juice out by mistake? Silly me."

Eyes watering, Arthur glared at the smugly smirking Italian; biting down on his lip to keep from wincing.

Oliver smiled proudly at Luciano, then turned his gaze on Arthur.

"My turn!"

Striding over to the Brit, Oliver also drew a knife from his pocket, though this was a catering knife, longer and crueler.

"Enough games, Artie darling. Let's get down to business."

'Games...What games?!' Arthur wanted to shout, eyes fixated on the wicked blade in Oliver's grasp.

"We're only toying with you, poppet," Oliver smiled, stroking the blade, "You have no idea of the things we can do... We're no amateurs."

Luciano chuckled, darkly, "Si; we've been around the block more than once!"

"So you really should be wary of the company you keep." Oliver finished, his knife awfully close to Arthur's eye.

The door opened as Flavio swept in, holding a navy blue bundle in his arms; "Sorry it took so long! I got held u-?!" he stopped, mouth agape as he stared at Oliver and Arthur with hurt eyes, "Ollie," he whined, "I didn't get to finish my fun!"

Oliver pulled back, tucking the knife away. "S-sorry, poppet, I got a little caught up in the moment there."

Gesturing to Arthur, he mumbled, "Go ahead."

"Yay! Grazie, Oliver!" Flavio squealed, bouncing forward to stand in front of Arthur. He held out the bundle, it unraveled to reveal a navy blue doll-like suit; "Isn't it so cute~!" he giggled.

"Absolutely!" Oliver clapped his hands together. "It'll look just darling on him!"

Studying him closer, he noticed something peculiar.

"Hmm, that might throw off the whole image..."

"What would you suggest?" Flavio asked, pouting slightly.

"No, no, the suit is fine. It's just..."

Oliver tilted Arthur's cheek up.

"We'll have to do something about those eyebrows."

"Hm, you're right!" Flavio gasped, touching one of Arthur's impressively-sized eyebrows, "Tsk, tsk; this just won't do!"

"I think there are some tweezers in the back, next to the sewing needles." Oliver gestured back to the ever-messy shelves.

"Alright! Luci~ Be a dear and get me the tweezers, will you? I want to try this suit on our little doll as soon as possible!" Flavio chirped, eyes twinkling.

Luci grumbled to himself as he grabbed the box containing the tweezers.

"Here." He shoved it into Flavio's hand none too gracefully and went back to staring at the wall.

Flavio smiled at his younger brother, "Grazie, fratello!" he chirped; turning back to Arthur, he opened the box to reveal the shining metal of a pair of tweezers, taking them out, "This won't be too bad!" he giggled.

Oliver just thanked his lucky stars that he wasn't born with caterpillars where his eyebrows should be.

Hair by hair, Arthur's eyebrows were mercilessly plucked; he winced with each and every one. Flavio just giggled.

"Oh, that looks a lot better." Oliver commented. "I'll go get the hairbrush for you, you're going to want it later."

Flavio finished up the task, looking at Oliver with that same crazy grin, "Grazie! I'm going to start putting this on him~!"

Oliver fetched the brush and a matching comb, the handles inlaid with gold leaf and pearl.

"Okay, Arthur; cooperate with me, please?" Flavio whimpered, sadly, as he tried to pull the blazer over the Englishman's head; Arthur lashed, trying to make it harder for the Italian to put the article of clothing on him. Though, his struggles were in vain as Flavio yanked down and his head went through the opening in one fluid motion; "I don't know how I'll get the pants on you though..." Flavio muttered.

"Or his arms..." Oliver muttered, before looking at the slightly ridiculous looking man with a shirt around his neck.

"I have some spare curare, if you need it. The paralyzing toxin."

"That would be perfect," Flavio replied, "I can I have it?"

Arthur's muscles tensed; _no, no, no!_

Oliver pulled a small vial full of dark liquid from his pocket and handed it to Flavio.

"Just hold his nose and tip it down his throat."

Grabbing the vial, Flavio nodded, "Got it," he chirped, pinching Arthur's nose shut and tilting his head back. The Brit's mouth remained stubbornly locked closed; the blonde fashionista sighed, "Arthur, don't make this harder for yourself~" he cooed. Arthur still kept his mouth shut.

"Oh well, it seems this will require a bit of..." Flavio trailed off right as Arthur felt something hit hard into his chest, knocking all of the air from his lungs and making him open his mouth the take a sharp breath of air in; Flavio took the opportunity and poured the vial's bitter contents into his mouth. "Force~!" the Italian finished in a happy chirp.

Oliver giggled. "It should take effect any minute now." Luciano just huffed.

"It's no fun if he can't move, then there's no struggle!" Oliver just tsked. "Not if you're trying to dress him up all nice and pretty."

"Ugh..." Luciano rolled his eyes with annoyance, but spoke nothing more.

Flavio watched eagerly as Arthur's muscles seemed to freeze in place; as soon as the Brit was all nice and still he got to work, pulling Arthur's arms through the sleeves and working on taking off his uniform's pants to replace them with the blue dress pants the outfit included.

Oliver gathered up the rest of the uniform's clothing and tossed it into the corner. "Good riddance." He muttered, wrinkling his nose.

Flavio giggled, slipping on the first pant leg as he tossed the brown slacks to the ground; "I know, those clothes were simply horrid! Weren't they, Luci?" he cooed.

Luciano scoffed, leaning against the wall, "Don't drag me into this..." he muttered, before sighing and crossing his arms over his chest as he looked away, "But, si; they were awful..."

Oliver cocked an eyebrow and handed Flavio the hairbrush an comb. "Since when do you use words like horrid?"

Flavio blushed, "I'm in literature with Loki and his boyfriend, remember? I guess Magnus' talking rubbed off on me a bit..." he rubbed the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. He took the brush and comb, "Grazie..."

Oliver nodded. "Hmm, I see your point... Anyway, you only have an hour. Better start working."

Flavio nodded, pulling on Arthur's new pants all the way; zipping up the zipper and buttoning the buttons. Then, he started to work on the hair; trying out different ways to actually make it somewhat tame, although the task was nearly impossible.

Oliver chuckled at Flavio's attempts to tame the wild mass of tangles. Luciano just scowled.

"This hair is so uncooperative!" Flavio sighed, brushing down the hair once again, only for it to bounce into its original styling.

"Try washing it? Luciano suggested, trying to be helpful.

Flavio nodded, "Good idea, fratello!" he chirped, clapping his hands together; "Where do I wash it, though?"

"Oh, I don't know, the backyard?" Luci rolled his eyes. "The upstairs bathroom, idiota."

Cheeks burning a bright cherry red, Flavio giggled shyly, "Oh, right; scusa!" He looked at his brother with pleading eyes, "Help me bring him up there?"

Luciano sighed, grabbed Arthur's unmoving legs, and hoisted him up.

"Should we just drag him? It won't hurt him that much; he has a thick head."

"Hm, si; it won't harm him too bad." Flavio replied.

Luciano started up the stairs, chuckling whenever Arthur's head made a thumping noise against the steps. After much effort, they made it to the upstairs bathroom.

Flavio hummed, "Oh, he's going to have a massive headache later!" he laughed. Walking to the tub, Flavio turned on the water; "Grazie for helping me little brother!" he joyfully chirped.

Luciano just scoffed, and threw open one of the cabinets. "Bubble bath." He muttered.

"Oh~ That's a great idea!" Flavio sang.

Luciano handed him five ornate bottles, all different colors and scents.

"Vanilla Bean, Cotton Candy, Lavender Bliss, Crisp Apple, or Citrus Dream?" Luci retched at the prissy names.

"Lavender Bliss; he seems the type..." Flavio muttered, taking the clear diamond glass vial with bluish-purple liquid sloshing around inside it. He popped off the top, getting hit with the strong fragrance almost immediately. Crinkling his nose, he gave a forced giggle, "Yep, this would be best for him." Flavio poured a bit in and sloshed it around so the bubbles formed faster.

Luciano wrinkled his nose, cursing Oliver for choosing the strongest bubble bath scents in History. "Technology these days is being used for evil." he muttered.

The bath tub was soon filled with bubbles; Flavio turned the water off and looked at the Brit sprawled on the ground. He sighed, "Let's get this done so I can finish my fun." he smiled.

Luciano looked from the Brit's wide open eyes to Flavio to the bathtub. "Don't look at me, I'm done helping."

Childishly sticking out his tongue, Flavio said, "Fine, you've help already, so I'll let it go." he grabbed the Brit and hoisted him up; "Now...how to do this..." he sweat-dropped. This would be harder than he thought...

Luckily, Oliver chose that moment to poke his head in the doorway. "Need any help with that, poppet?" He said, grinning

"Si, please?" Flavio responded, giving his own grin.

Oliver leaned over Arthur, inspecting the situation. "Just his hair, or the whole package? Because I'm not sure how to do this without him drowning."

"I think the hair would be fine; it wouldn't be fun if he drowns," Flavio replied, "Also, we'd have to take the clothes off him again..."

"Okey-dokey!" On that note, Oliver lifted Arthur's head up and gently dipped it into the pool of steaming water and froth.

Flavio smiled, "Good; where's the conditioner?" he asked.

Oliver pulled out a heavy bottle filled with a white fluid. "Two-in-One Shampoo and Conditioner: Special Blend" it read in loopy handwriting.

"This is the strongest one I have." He sighed.

Taking the bottle, Flavio gave a nod, "As long as it won't melt off his hair, its perfect!" he giggled.

Oliver thought to himself before saying, "I added a teensy tiny bit of peroxide to give his hair a bit of a lighter color, but it's very diluted, and shouldn't hurt him at all."

"Alright, sounds good; here we go!" Flavio snickered, taking the bottle press down spout and squirting some onto his hand; lathering up Arthur's messy hair and humming.

Oliver knelt down on the other side of Arthur to help, scraping his nails on Arthur's scalp to penetrate the deep layer of dirt.

"When was the last time you washed your hair, Artie?" he muttered, grimacing.

Luciano strolled over, crinkling his nose at the state of Arthur's hair, "It looks like months..." he scoffed.

"Hm, maybe a few weeks; but definitely not months." Flavio shrugged, "Though, I don't know how this mess didn't irritate him!" he practically shouted.

Oliver giggled at the face Arthur was making, a combination of "I'm going to murder your f***ing face," and "Help me please I am forcibly being made to take a bath." He poured water over the Brit's head, combing the hair with his fingers to remove all the soap bubbles.

Also giggled at the expression, Flavio shushed Arthur's nonexistent complaints, "Shush, Artie; it will all be over soon~!" he chirped.

Oliver nodded. "I'll go plug in the hair dryer." He stands up, dries his hand off, and reaches for the cabinet that holds the piece of technology.

Flavio finished up the job of rising, then took a towel from the rack to wrap around Arthur's neck and the ends of his hair so the droplets wouldn't slid down his back; "Here we go!" he chirped.

Ollie flicked the machine on and let the heat play over Arthur's hair, drying it into masses of blonde fluff.

Luciano snickered, "He looks like those freaking chicks that Gilen raised!" he laughed; Arthur felt heat rush to his face, he was blushing. Fantastic. Fan-bloody-tastic.

Oliver giggled, handing Flavi the brush again. "He does look like a baby bird... a terribly cute baby bird." He smoothed his hair down and grinned.

Flavio started to brush Arthur's golden locks of hair down, "Si, he looks just like one~!" he sang. Arthur rolled his eyes, face still stained red.

"Hmm, much more manageable." Oliver noted, fingering a lock of Arthur's hair between his thumb and forefinger.

"And now it doesn't look like someone ran it through a tornado." Luciano snarkily commented.

"Luci, be polite." Oliver tutted. "Though, I have to admit, it did have a bit of a storm-swept look." He patted Arthur's head and smiled pityingly. "Artie, when you get back, be sure to take care of your appearance, don't waste all of our hard work, or we'll be back."

Unable to form words, Arthur just glared at Oliver, 'I'll make sure you all never come back...' he thought.

Oliver stared at the pitiful young man. His hair was now orderly, no small feat, his eyebrows were plucked, his suit was adorable. "Go ahead, Flavio darling."

Flavio squeed; "Alright!" he sang, clapping his hands together.

Luciano just groaned. "Geez, Flavio, you make everything into such a big deal."

In response, the older Italian shrugged, "Can't I be excited, Luci~?" he whined.

Luci whipped out his knife and started polishing it again, as if daring Flavio to say anything more.

Rolling his eyes, Flavio turned his attention back to Arthur and smirked, "Where to start~?" he put a finger to his lips in thought.

Oliver pulled the plug on the bathtub, letting the water and bubbles swirl down the drain. "I still think we should go back to my scissors idea." He grumbled.

"Fine, fine; just don't pout about it..." Flavio muttered, giving another sassy roll of his eyes as he puckered his lips slightly.

Oliver, smirking, handed Flavio the scissors, ignoring the fear on Arthur's face.

"It won't hurt," Flavio gently chided, slowly running a gloved finger down the scissor's edge, "After all, it's only a little haircut!" he grinned, eyes twinkling.

Oliver patted Arthur on the head. "There, there, Artie darling. It'll all be over in a second... That is, if Flavi doesn't get too carried away..." He murmured.

Said Italian huffed, "I won't; 'Just a little off the top' remember?" he pouted.

"Mm, you do tend to get carried away with these kinds of things. Now hurry up before the toxin wears off." Oliver said, with Luci nodding in agreement.

"Alright, alright," Flavio sighed, positioning the scissors and Arthur in a position so he could cut the Brit's hair easily; he began. Snip, snip, snip.

Luciano and Oliver just leaned back to enjoy the terrified expression on Arthur's face as drifts of his honey-blonde hair tumbled to the floor.

"Your fault for not cutting it!" Luciano scoffed, smirking in amusement as he watched his older brother work.

"Yes, Artie, be grateful, this will stay long after you leave our happy home; we're doing you a favor here." Oliver chirped, smiling sincerely at the poor man.

In response to the smile, Arthur simply glared at the other British student; 'How do you expect me to be grateful?!' he mentally shrieked.

"Don't move your head, Artie," Flavio muttered as Arthur moved his head the tiniest bit, "Wouldn't want something to happen, do we?"

"Ohhhh, he's stirring." Luciano smirked, pulling a length of rope from his pocket.

"Arthur, listen to me." Oliver said quietly. "You will regain movement in the next ten minutes. However, I highly recommend you stay still until Flavi finishes."

Arthur growled, but complied; he was smart enough to know that it was a possibility to get a pair of scissors to the eye with these nutjobs. Hopefully, this would be over with and he could go back to World W Academy...

"Flavi, lamb, the left side is two millimeters longer." Murmured Oliver, humming to himself and Flavio trimmed the Brit's hair to the precise style and length he wanted it. Flavio really had a good eye for detail, but everyone makes mistakes.

Like the time Oliver had accidentally left Luciano alone with a letter opener and Lutz.

Yeah, that hadn't ended well...for Lutz...

"Hm? Oh, I see it!" the Italian chirped, correcting the mistake and perfecting the style, "And... Done~!" he beamed.

Oliver studied Arthur's new hairstyle with glee. His once unruly hair now lay tidy against his scalp, slightly mussed to appear fashionable. It was, overall, quite flattering.

"Now he really looks like a little doll!" Flavio squealed, admiring his handy-work as he ran his fingers through the Brit's now tidy hair.

"Hmm, I have an idea." Oliver whispered something into Flavio's ear.

Flavio's eyes widened, a grin crawling onto his face; "Si! That would work!" he chirped.

Oliver fished some pills out of his pocket. "Bottoms up, Artie dear, you're going home now." He cooed.

Slowly, unsurely, Arthur tried to open his mouth to the best of his ability. He was sure he wasn't going to like what would be happening next...

Oliver tipped the pills in and shoved his mouth closed. "Now swallow."

The other Brit did so; the pills slid down his throat with a bitter flavor, his vision blurred almost immediately.

Oliver watched, satisfied, as Arthur hit the floor with a heavy thump.

"Alright, load 'im up."

Luciano rolled his eyes, taking Arthur under the arms as Flavio took his legs; "Sure thing, boss." the younger Italian sarcastically scoffed.

Oliver clapped his hands together and shot Luci a beaming smile.

"The car is out front. Thank you ever so much!"

Luciano gave a small growl, but let it go; he and Flavio walked out with their cargo in hand.

Oliver supervised, directing them and making "beep, beep, beep" noises. They bumped into a few walls, but they made it to the car okay.

Luciano dropped Arthur's upper body into the car's backseat, giving a huff, "Finally that's over with."

Flavio put the Brit's legs into the seat; stretching his arms, he commented, "It wasn't too bad."

Oliver slid into the driver's seat, checked to make sure everybody's seat belts were buckled, and drove away.

"Point out the house for me, will you?"

Flavio nodded, "Alright!" he hummed, looking out the window; "Almost...there! That one!" he giggled.

Oliver smiled, stopping the car abruptly. He opened the door and gestured for Flavi and Luci to bring the body out.

The twins did so, clumsily getting out of the car and lugging Arthur out.

Oliver arranged Arthur on the doorstep, rang the doorbell, then slapped Artie in the face to wake him up and ran back to the car.

Groggily, Arthur was pulled back into the waking world; blinking, he dazedly sat back up and rubbed his head with a groan.

"Angleterre? Why are you sitting on my doorstep?" An obnoxious French accent pulled Arthur to his senses. "You plucked your eyebrows? And got an 'aircut? And what in 'ell are you wearing?"

His face growing red, Arthur glared at Francis, "This wasn't my idea! I was abducted by those bloody insane Kurai Taneoka students!" he growled.

Francis looked puzzled. "Kurai... Taneoka? Arthur, as far as I know, there isn't a school called Kurai Taneoka anywhere near here. Or at least, anywhere easily accessed by bus. Are you feeling okay? Did you go out drinking again? You were supposed to be at school today, you naughty boy."

"Bu...but..." Arthur blinked; Kurai Taneoka was infamous in his school...or were they? "I think I need to lay down..." he mumbled, holding his head with a sigh.

Francis stood back and invited the young male in, settling him down on the couch. "Oh, and Arthur?"

"Yes?" came the hushed reply.

"You look nice. The suit and 'aircut really suit you." Francis winked and went to go get Arthur some tea - if he had any.

Face going all the more red, Arthur tugged at his collar; he still felt the slight itch of the ribbon. Maybe...maybe he had imagined everything? Maybe...

Arthur was about to protest further, but when he looked into the mirror hanging above the fireplace, he screamed and hid behind the couch.

A single, blue-and-pink eye winked at him.


End file.
